The Final Battle of the Prophecy
by StarLight Massacre
Summary: The Battle for Hogwarts the way I believe it would have went had Harry had the training he needed to survive and had done things his own way. Written because I was disapointed with the book and the way Harry defeated Voldemort. Warning-Violence and death.


Author: StarLight Massacre

Title: The Final Battle of the Prophecy

Rating: M

Pairing: None

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all characters and recognisable content belongs to J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money for this fictional writing.

Warning: Violence, Language, death, implications of rape.

Summary:

The final battle for Hogwarts, the way I believe it should have gone, written in first person and from Harry's point of view.

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The Final Battle of the Prophecy

I felt like dying, the pain was so intense I could literally feel my nerves peeling under my torn skin. My left leg was fractured, yet I still fought and ran on it. My right arm was broken, yet I still cast spells and curses with it, my broken and bleeding hand still clenched tightly around the stick of wood I held, but wanting desperately to let go of it.

The final battle of the prophecy was underway; masses of burnt and dying bodies were littering the ground like…well like burnt and dying bodies lying on the ground. The blank eyes of the dead followed me as I weaved expertly through the jets of light and blasted debris, I had no idea if my friends or family were alive, or if they were just another one of the endless, nameless bodies I had passed over, split open and bleeding on the already blood stained ground. I needed to find him, I had to finish this before any more people could die, but even before I finished my thoughts another scream rent the air and turning quickly to the source I watched as another member of the Order of the Phoenix had her life wiped out by a jeering Death Eater.

I closed my eyes and swallowed the bile that was trying to force its way up my throat, I couldn't stop, not until this war was over with. I needed to kill him, Voldemort needed to be killed.

Ever since I had heard that prophecy, that plebeian nattering of a drunken fraud, from a diabolically fragile glass ball, I had been preparing myself for murder and death. Oh I had absolutely no illusions that I was going to die, I could feel it, it was upon the very air I was breathing in so erratically, but I also knew, there was no way I was going from this world without taking Tom Riddle with me.

The unnaturalness of the undead was always an unbalance in nature and I knew a_ lot _about nature, but Tom Riddle was a terrible unbalance, he was not truly undead, though he was immortal. He was different from the vampires, who counter balanced their existence. With the vampires, though they were undead there was no rebirth. They could not procreate, at least not that I had ever heard of. But Tom Riddle could, though I couldn't see anyone but Bellatrix Lestrange ever getting that desperate.

Though many people questioned it, he was still human, he could still think and feel, he needed to eat, sleep and drink to survive, he still bled and he could still have children, god forbid the thought. Therein a terrible unbalance, it was my _duty_ to rid the world of this unbalance. Or so say the masses of the wizarding world. They also say the vampires are unnatural, I disagree but I am but a child to them so my opinion is not taken into consideration.

I scoffed at the idea of myself being a child. I was sixteen years old, dripping blood, showing bone and fleshy tissue through ripped skin, dodging brightly coloured beams of light, any of which could end my life in an instant. Oh no, I was very far from being a child.

I tried and failed to suppress a body-racking cough. After a shot to my ribs from a vampire I hadn't been able to stop coughing, my rib cage might have been broken and even now the bone fragments might be puncturing my lungs and letting blood fill them to drown me, then again I might have been over reacting and coughing due to the lack of fresh air. The only air I had to breathe in was tainted, filled with the scent of burning flesh, blood and smoke. It wasn't any wonder that I was choking on it.

Twisting around another jet of brightly, poisonous orange, light whilst simultaneously leaping over a fallen body, I spun around and blasted the filth that had just tried to kill me. He went down immediately, blood coating his bone white mask, his black robe gaining a wet look as his blood seeped into it. He fell on top of another body, becoming just another blank face in a sea of broken and bloody dead bodies.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a monster, the way I can kill, can take another life, so easily and effortlessly, I knew I was damned to an eternity in hell, but surely with every life I took I was just condemning myself further? Not that I believed in God or any of the bible readings, well most of them anyway. A God would not have left a helpless baby to the mercies of the Dursleys, a God would not have let an innocent baby suffer as I had, surely, a God would have answered a four year olds prayers as I lay battered and bruised, wishing for a scrap of food, a drop of water, a loving family. None of them were answered, no matter how big of a prayer, how long it was wished for or how desperate I had been, all of them unanswered. I don't know why I still prayed for forgiveness when I had long ago learnt the hard way that I would never get what I wanted or needed.

I had long ago abandoned my prayer of a family, it just wasn't meant to be. I was always meant to be alone and that thought saddened me more than anything else. I was born into a loving family and had it stripped from me, I was sent to a hideously abusive household and lived there for the majority of my supposed childhood. I was enslaved, beaten, battered, ridiculed and unloved. Then I was sent to a prejudice world that looked to a baby to save them and through it all, I was alone, I had been alone since I was fifteen months old and I was going to die alone at sixteen.

Such pessimistic thoughts for a sixteen-year-old, one might say, but damn it to hell and back I was _allowed_ to be pessimistic! I was going to _die_ either tonight or tomorrow morning! I breathed in deeply the action jarring my ribs as my lungs expanded into the broken bones to accommodate the tainted air I had sucked in.

Scouting the area I deemed it safe enough to carry on, I was an assassin, a highly trained weapon of mass destruction. I knew it all, how to take down a man slowly and painfully, or quick and painlessly. Which point to strike to kill a werewolf, how to take down giants, what the weakness of vampires was, I KNEW IT ALL! And that made me more of a monster in my mind than the papers that claimed it.

Since that hellish prophecy my life became a living library, I paid no attention to school work, deeming homework an unnecessary distraction, I ignored the calls of detention, I ignored the librarian who said I couldn't go into the restricted section and went in there anyway, just grabbing books and devouring them before moving on, no matter what wards were in place to stop me, I overcame them all and that annoyed the teachers more than anything, that they couldn't control me or what knowledge I was taking in, because even though they had taken out the darkest of the books, I just owl ordered what I wanted anyway, Hedwig was too clever for them to intercept and I ignored the summons to Dumbledore's office and ignored the demands for the books I had bought. I ignored it all!

That pompous prick Dumbledore had then decided to put a confiscation order out on all of my books and possessions! He had actually got a _warrant_ to search my stuff and bank vaults! That didn't get too far though, the goblins had my back, I was one of their more wealthy customers. It was very easy to manipulate the warrant, it stated quite clearly that all vaults held in the name of Harry James Potter were to be searched, so all I did was put my more…questionable items into a new bank vault under the name Haradarian Rowan Paris Potter. The books at Hogwarts were placed in my trunk and sealed under a hidden compartment and warded so strongly not even a curse breaker could undo it, well a mediocre curse breaker, they probably wouldn't have been strong enough to withstand a highly trained one attacking them, but they never brought a curse breaker, mediocre or otherwise, so kudos to me.

I ditched classes, all except Potions, because even I couldn't deny I seriously needed it. I opened my eyes and ears and I couldn't believe how similar Potions were to Chemistry. I used to love Chemistry when I was in junior school, not that they ever let us near anything as dangerous as the Potions we made in Professor Snape's class, the most we ever got to 'play' with was coloured water and salt, and even that was under constant supervision. But I grew to love the dangerous and potent liquids I could make. Poisons that could render the muscles paralyzed, gooey concoctions that could heal the human body in mere moments, liquids that could boil the blood and fry brain cells, watery fluids that could snuff out a life easier than blowing out a candle, it interested me, it became my new obsession and suddenly I knew exactly why Snape loved Potions so much. The power, the control held at ones fingertips, all contained in a single, flimsy, vial.

My knowledge took leaps and bounds, my school grades fell to the bottom of the bottom, even Crabbe and Goyle got better marks than me, but I didn't care. I was learning what I needed to survive, not what I needed to pass a few measly tests. Numerous times I was called or sent to McGonagall and Dumbledore, but they couldn't do jack all. I was the 'Saviour' and there would have been an outcry had I been expelled at that point in time, I knew that and used it to my full advantage. I think Snape was surprised yet strangely honoured that his was the only class I ever attended. Though he hid it well behind his snarky, sniping and his snarled and sneered 'Why do you continue to torture me with your presence Potter?' or 'Why is my class the only one you want to '_bless_' with your arrogant ego Potter?' and my personal favourite 'Why can't you just leave my class so I can finally live my life in peace Potter?' actually the way Snape spat my last name sounded more like Pot-Tahh instead of Potter, but it just amused me, so I said nothing.

The battle was getting more bloody, the piles of bodies littering the field made it hard for me to manoeuvre around, so I had to resort to jumping into tiny little foot holes between bodies and limbs, it was unappealing, jarred my broken leg and made me sick to my stomach, but there was nothing I could do as I struck down another four Death Eaters and a werewolf who decided he wanted to take a chunk out of my side!

"Ohh look! My pretty little human!"

The voice sent shivers down my spine. 'Vampire!' My mind screamed at me. I knew this man, I had met him earlier in the night and he had already tried biting me. His fingers had sliced open my side and was the main reason I had almost depleted my personal batch of blood replenishers.

I turned to him and he looked like he had been sat in a tree for the past four hours since I had last gotten into a fight with him, myself, on the other hand, must have looked haggard and gaunt. I was covered head to foot in blood, some my own, some belonging to the numerous people dead on the ground. I was battered, bruised and panting. His grin could have blinded anyone who was looking his way, even if I hadn't have known Leglimency I would have still known what he was thinking; Easy prey. Like fuck I was going to let this pumped up, bloodsucker get to me.

He ran at me suddenly and I had barely enough time to conceive his move and turn away, after that I fell into a familiar frame of mind, a different persona as it were, I dodged, feinted and sent severing hexes at that filthy cock grabber, because it because apparent after the fifth time he groped my groin, that he really was getting a kick out of touching me. Well that didn't settle right with me, not after 'Uncle' Vernon stole my innocence at the horrific and tender age of eleven. I was never going to forgive that obese paedophile for what he did to me all those years ago, it was no wonder I was so clinically screwed up. I knew once this was all over with I was never going back there, whether it was through death or my own choice, I would never go back. I don't know why I was so powerless at that Muggle house but my magic levels dropped so severely it was like being drenched in iced cold water.

A harsh grab on my left ass cheek had me snapping my fist into that smug bastard's face; it was pointless as all it did was break the knuckles on my left hand, but damned if it didn't make me feel good to see the brilliant red mark on his deathly white face, even if it hadn't hurt him.

"What's the matter little baby? The little wizards don't like you anymore?" He taunted and I smirked.

"I think it is entirely the other way around." I corrected, still smirking. "I don't like them."

"Aww, too bad. Well I like you baby wizard, let me make you feel good."

I shivered, his words entirely too close to Uncle Vernon's for my liking and my face hardened. I sent another severing hex towards the filthy fucker's neck, it just nicked him and his eyes grew hard, changing from lust blown red to livid black, not that I cared; I knew I could take him, it was all about patience and perseverance.

He lunged and took another swipe at the same side he had already badly damaged, it caught true and I hissed in a deep breath from the sudden flare of white-hot pain. Bastard was going to die!

Our fight grew more intense as I flung out four very powerful severing hexes and I took a heavy punch to my gut, making me spew what little I had in my stomach. Damn I knew I was going to have a horrendous bruise there and quite possibly some internal damage.

He lunged again and caught my shoulder between his teeth. PAIN! It was the only thing that registered to me as his venom flowed into my blood stream and equally my magic flared out to combat the intrusion. He detached himself after a large gulp of my blood and latched on in quick succession to several other parts of my body, pumping in his venom into my body as my heart pumped my blood into his greedy mouth. I snapped out of my haze, horrified that I had stood there, frozen like some untrained retard, that I had actually let this _filth _bite me and push his venom into me, what did he think I was? A snack? A fucking _toy_?

"Mmm, you taste delicious baby wizard, so damned delicious." He moaned, licking his lips exaggeratedly for stray drops of _my_ blood.

I lost it, wholly and completely, I lost it. I flew at him, my broken right hand switching my wand for my sword almost before my brain caught the message for my arms to move, and I swung my blade deeply into the fucker's neck, tugging it viciously, hacking the bleeder's neck and head right from his shoulders. A curse to my back had me forgetting the vampire I hadn't completely killed yet and swinging my sword back into my waist scabbard and drawing my wand, before flinging as many curses at the Death Eater behind me as possible, bouncing my way closer, dodging the jets sent my way once they saw I was _the_ Harry Potter.

Jumping into a battle with three Death Eaters, then helping Theodore Nott, a quiet Slytherin who had begged me to switch sides. I forgot about the vampire, ass grabber, I hadn't completely killed; it would prove to be a very big mistake on my part.

A moving bush tackled me and I almost drew my blade and hacked into it, until I felt tears on my arm.

"Harry! Harry I'm sorry, I can't do this! This wasn't what I expected!" Hermione wailed into my dirt encrusted, blood drenched, tattered shirt.

I felt my heart break at her words; she was such an innocent girl, though vicious when her books were called into question. I had known she wasn't ready for war, knew it in every fibre of my being, but she had refused to be left behind.

I cupped her cheek gently, so gently. Such gentle, soft touches did not belong to a killer and that was what I was, a highly trained assassin, but I couldn't bring myself to be hard and rough with my baby Hermione, even though she was older than me by ten months.

"It's alright Hermione." My voice was harsh, guttural and laced with pain and fatigue. I had been on the front line, in the thick of this battle for nearing nine hours now, it was taking its toll. "I knew you were not ready for this, I told you."

"I know, I'm sorry I never listened!"

I pulled her into my arms and swung around with her. I hissed in pain as a slicing jinx split open my already lacerated back. I turned to the bastard that had tried to hurt my Hermione and slit the fucker's neck with a well-placed curse before I could even recognise his face.

I quickly pulled a necklace from my neck and put it around hers.

"Take this." I ordered.

"Harry this is your personal Portkey! You need it!" She cried, trying to take it back off.

"No Hermione, I might need it, _might_. You need it _now_ and I might not need it at all. Take it to the safe house, I will come to collect you when this is all over and done with."

"But…"

"No! Take it quickly. You don't deserve to see the horrors of this, I knew I should have been more firm and demanded that you stayed behind."

"Harry!"

"I love you Hermione. Stay safe."

I pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and activated the Portkey. Where she had been three seconds before a large crater appeared and I turned livid eyes onto Augustus Rookwood. He sneered and I snarled, before launching into battle with him, how dare that fucker try to kill my baby Hermione!

The battle with him didn't last long, I was too angry, after he was disposed of another took his place and so the battle raged onwards, more blood was spilt and I became more and more fatigued.

Numerous people I knew, whether I liked them or not was another story, danced past me, in the throes of battle, all aiming to take out their duelling partner, I sneered at those that were meant to be on my side as they stunned and incapacitated their opponents, I was probably the only person besides Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody who was aiming to kill. What happened if a Death Eater just decided to up and release all of his tied up buddies? No one could stop them if they decided to do just that, everyone was caught up in their own battles, so I went behind them and if I saw a tied up Death Eater, well a quick slicing jinx to their exposed necks and nothing more was said.

As my breathing became even more laboured I took a quick potion from my belt and downed it, the thick substance giving me artificial energy, I knew I would regret taking it when it ran through my entire body and became too diluted in my blood to do anything, as my energy levels would be near non existent at that point, I just hoped I finished the job before then.

A snarl sounded behind me and I spun around quickly, stumbling slightly in my haste. My reflexes were becoming sluggish and jittery, nine and a half hours in the thick of the battle was wearing me down and now as I looked to the towering figure of an Alpha werewolf, I felt like turning tail and running. I had never felt more of a coward than in that moment I spent looking into those lethal amber coloured eyes.

The werewolf's prominent teeth were bared at me, coated in blood and dripping with saliva, he towered over my pathetic five foot three frame at a staggering six foot six. I felt like a tiny child that had been introduced to a giant, I was quite literally shaking in fear, but I held my ground and gritted my teeth in the face of such a formidable opponent. It was all I could do, I _had_ to fight.

"Potter." He snarled, his mouth moving to what I assumed was a sadistic grin, but looked more like row upon row of blood-smeared razors. "What a lovely surprise."

"Sorry I can't say the same." I sneered, hiding my fear under false bravado, even though he could more than likely smell the fear that radiated off of me.

He growled and lunged at me, but my tightly coiled muscles managed to get me out of the way just in time.

"You're such a pretty little thing aint ya Potter?" He taunted. "I can't wait to get your little body underneath mine and after I fuck ya, I'm gonna kill and eat ya."

"Well then I guess our plans don't correlate together, you see I was planning on just killing _you_ here and now and then going off to kill that fucker that's hiding like a coward here somewhere." I made a show of looking around for an adversary that was hiding, but I never took my peripheral vision from the wolf.

"You think you can kill me?" The werewolf snorted in amusement. "Woulda thought you wouldn't risk that pretty baby face of yours. It's far too pretty to be permanently scarred, but I'm sure I can manage some damage to it after I've had my fill of your luscious, supple body."

I shivered lightly in revulsion at the flashbacks of Vernon brought on by the insinuation of rape. Filthy, moral-less, mongrel!

"Sorry that still doesn't tie in with my plans."

A blinding green light swept the hairs by my left ear and I twisted to my left and quickly shot down the bitch that had sent the killing curse at me, but the damned wolf took advantage of those few seconds where I was preoccupied. He leapt and pinned me to the ground under his damned heavy body.

He licked my face and neck, making exaggerated moaning and groaning sounds, thrusting himself very vividly into my body, pushing me across the muddy, blood-splattered ground. I felt damned sick to my stomach! He unsheathed his claws and ripped my shirt from my body, being none too gentle about it and catching my delicate skin, tearing strips out of my torso.

I closed my eyes tightly and locked my throat to stop the scream, bile and vomit that was begging to be released, though it would serve the bastard right if I puked all over him. There was nothing I could do and I damned knew it. My body was beaten and broken, my energy levels were depleting, I had had my wand knocked from my hand, my sword was stuck under my body and I wasn't big or strong enough to have a hope in hell in forcing the heavy wolf off of my body.

His hands situated themselves into my boxer shorts and my most private places were groped, none too gently. I breathed deeply, in and out, focusing obsessively on the rhythmic sound. If only I could reach the dagger strapped to my hip. My hand inched down, even as I winced as his hands clenched on random parts of my body, biting and licking.

"What? No screaming, no flailing, no fighting. One would almost think ya wanted this gorgeous?"

I didn't dignify him with an answer, he knew I didn't want this, I definitely knew I didn't want this, so it was just a waste of precious breath and energy. I had almost reached that dagger on my hip, when he grabbed my opposite arm and hauled it above my head.

"S'matter babe? You like being dominated by a big, strong man? Wanna be pinned down and force fucked do ya? Bet it's a big fantasy of yours aint it?"

"Oh yes, of course." I replied, heavy sarcasm lacing my voice effectively masking the pain and fear I felt. "This has always been one of my biggest fantasies, thought there is one problem with it that I can't ignore. My fantasy involves an actual _man_, which your so obviously not wolfie."

He snarled and was just about to take a chunk out of my neck when I caught the handle of my dagger, swung it out of the thin leather strap it was kept in and slammed it down into his back, not caring at how much pain I was in at the moment or how much my broken fingers didn't want to wrap around the smooth handle of the weapon.

He jerked in surprise and pain and I steadfastly gripped the blade with both of my hands and used it to lift my weight from the floor. The result; my dagger going even further into his back.

I let go of the dagger and scrambled out from under him and to my feet, I had lost my shirt now though and it displayed the gruesome damage wrought on my body over the past ten hours, it was a wonder I was even still alive let alone up and standing, still fighting. Though the potions helped.

I spotted the dark wooden stick that was smooth and polished. My wand! I scooped it up and held it in my busted hand. It 'greeted' me with a swift flare of warmth that travelled from my palm, up my arm and seemed to pool in my shoulder.

A snarl brought me back to the Alpha werewolf who was currently trying to reach the dagger embedded in his back with his far too muscular arms, I couldn't help myself, I giggled lightly, perhaps even a bit hysterically. It was a very manly giggle mind you! I didn't do girly no matter how many times Hermione and Luna said otherwise damn it!

That brought monster man's attention back to me and he ignored the dagger in favour of lunging at me, he was intercepted on the way and I watched in shock as calm, reserved, level-headed Remus Lupin started bashing the fuck out of him, tearing into the man's flesh with claws that had definitely not been there the last I had seen him and snapping a mouth full of razor blade like teeth, that also hadn't been there the last I had seen him.

"Go Cub!" He snarled at me, his voice oddly distorted around the mouthful of daggers. "End this war, I'll finish up here!"

"Be safe Remy!" I yelled hoarsely at him and jogged off in search of a new quarry to kill.

I found one, oh lord did I find one that brought my need for blood up ten fold, there was my precious little Luna, being held under the Cruciatus Curse by Thorfinn Rowle, a man that had raped me repeatedly when I was once captured by the other forces.

I growled low in my throat, my voice not sounding so human, but maybe that was the vampire venom now in my body? My magic was still battling the intrusion, but I had no idea if it was winning or not. Then again I wondered if it was the werewolf coming out in me? That Alpha had bitten me more times than I cared to remember, but enough of that, my little lulu needed my damned help!

I blasted that fucker off of her like a cockroach, I ran to her and held her tightly as she sobbed on to my shoulder, blood pouring from her mouth, such sweet smelling blood that made my eye twitch and my gums start to tingle, the fuck?

"Hush lulu, it's alright baby girl. Cry on me, I'll make it all better." I crooned to her, stroking her matted hair.

I stood up with her in my arms, much more easily than ever before, again I blamed the vampire or werewolf genes battling for dominance with my magic in my body.

With Luna on my hip, my undamaged, well mostly undamaged, left arm holding her securely in place, my broken and bleeding right hand held my wand on Rowle.

"Like torturing little girls do you cockroach?" I spat, kicking his head hard. "A big man like you picking on a fifteen year old, five foot girl? Does it make you feel good? Make you feel big as she screams at your filthy feet?"

I was getting angrier as I repeatedly kicked the shit out of him, Luna buried her head in my hair. I pulled my wand on him then and slashed it, watching in pride as his chest split open like the pages in a book. He screamed and it brought me delight to know the one who had hurt my lulu was in such agonising pain.

"Don't like it when the tables turn on you, do you cockroach? You want to try and touch my lulu again? No? Didn't fucking think so cockroach!" I roared.

Rowle was struggling to get to his feet, blood spurting from his chest like a weird, broken fountain. He leapt clumsily at me and Luna, but he was slow and sluggish from the headshots, bone crunching pain and blood loss. I caught him easily with a screamed Avada Kedavra. The blinding, sickly, green light flared from my wand tip and struck him straight over the heart, he fell backwards, his eyes open and glassy, staring unseeingly at the night sky, his chest wound stopped spurting blood as his heart stopped beating the once precious liquid out through the gaping split. Once I was assured he was indeed dead and that there was no immediate danger I turned to my baby lulu, who had her head buried in my hair still.

"Baby girl? Lulu? Are you alright?" I cooed softly, stoking her back rhythmically.

"Ha…Harry! I thought I was going to die!" She wailed. "It was so painful, I just wanted to die."

She was twitching slightly in my arms with the after affects of the deplorable curse. I shot a deep purple spell at Rowle's dead corpse and watched as it tore him limb from limb. A spell I usually reserved just for the vampires, though it took more magic than I cared to part with to cast, I would have drained myself for Luna.

"It's okay baby lulu, here take this, the twitching will stop once it has soothed and repaired your nerves." I told her, clicking a vial of light blue, watery potion from my belt and handing it to her.

"Thank you." She croaked as she downed the potion, the twitching becoming minimal almost immediately.

"I don't want you to stay here baby girl, go to Hermione at the safe house, there is nothing for you to prove and nothing for you to do here, you have done a valiant job Luna, but please go to the safe house."

"Okay."

I smiled at her and picked up a piece of debris from the ground, I touched it lightly, whispering 'Portus' with the safe house clearly in my mind. A flash of white-blue light later and a smear of my blood to get her through the extensive blood wards I had erected around the safe house, I handed Luna the Portkey and counted her down from three. She vanished and I breathed a sigh of relief, my two baby girls were safe, damaged and injured, mentally and perhaps physically scarred, but safe and alive, for that I was thankful.

I jumped right back into the fray of the battle and almost screamed at the sight of a horror faced Tonks laying face up on the ground. I knelt next to her and breathing rapidly and shallowly, I touched her face lightly. She was cold, she had been dead for a while. I choked on a sob, before my eyes hardened, my jaw tensed, whoever the fuck had done this to my family was going to be torn into tiny, tiny little pieces!

I sent out a wave of magic to touch her and scanned her body for a magical signature that wasn't her own, the foreign signature was terribly strong and I almost shook under the pressure of it. I gently closed Tonks eyes and stared at the night sky, I knew tears were falling from my eyes by the almost unnoticeable tickling sensation they caused as they passed over the light peach fuzz on my cheeks, but I didn't care, I had no will to stop them from falling as I thought of the tiny face of my Godson, Teddy, who was now Motherless.

Anger coiled inside of me like an angry snake ready to strike and dear god was I ever ready to strike, I stood up swiftly and locked onto the signature. I flared out my magic, people stumbled under the assault, cowered under it, were left in awe of my power and control, but I just gave a sinister smile as I found the aura of the bastard I was looking for, I let the signature lead me and I strode, almost calmly, to where it was leading me. My calmness left me however when I saw the face of Antonin Dolohov staring smugly at the dead body of Remus Lupin, the last of my Father figures. My breath caught and my heart raced, almost beating out of my chest and white hot rage consumed me, I couldn't hold back if I tried, this cockroach had taken away Tonks; sweet, adorable, clumsy, Tonks and now he had taken away the last of the Marauders; the strong, calm, voice of reason and most of all, the man I had looked up to.

A picture of Teddy floated through my head once again and it was with a stab I realised he was now parentless, an orphan. I swore right then and there I would avenge his parents and strip this cockroach of absolutely everything, my Godson Teddy would never have a life like I had if I had to take him in myself.

I said nothing as I made my presence known to the cockroach, he looked scared shitless and he was particularly looking at my eyes, what he saw there that scared him so much I had no clue, but it was satisfying to see my _prey_ tremble before me.

My hand clenched and my bones clicked as my joints popped. I hid the pain of such an action under layers and layers of anger. I brought my wand up slowly and took satisfaction in the wet patch that appeared on Dolohov's trousers, seemed he was more terrified of me than I had first thought. Good.

I cast torture curse after torture curse, revelling in the anguished, tormented screams Dolohov didn't even try to hold back. I forgot everything else, I had bubble wards up anyway, so I wouldn't be disturbed. I couldn't even say what curses I was using, because I just didn't know, I was flinging everything in my arsenal at him and by the time I stopped to take a breather, Dolohov was laying spread eagled on the ground, drooling through a slack jaw, making murmuring noises with watery, dull eyes.

I could have left him like that, he wasn't a threat anymore, no man that had lost his mind quite like this was a threat, but I wasn't satisfied, I wanted him DEAD! I looked sadly at Remus, who would now never get to hold his two-week-old son again. Such a cruel twist of Fate's hand.

I felt my rage pick up again as I thought how upset Teddy was going to be, how distraught Andromeda was going to be, first her Husband had been killed, then her Daughter and finally her Son-in-law. Would she even find the will to continue living? Would Teddy be enough for her? She was an old woman now, could she handle a near newborn baby that had to be fed every two hours? Needed constant support and attention. If she couldn't, could I?

Yes, I decided, I could. I didn't care how fucking hard it was going to be, if Andromeda couldn't take care of Teddy, there was no fucking way I was letting anyone else raise him. He was _my _Godson damn it!

I turned back to Dolohov and delivered a killing curse right to his heart, I didn't have it in me to let him die painfully, not when my thoughts were centred around my Teddy Ted bear. I downed a quick potion to stimulate me and another to duplicate the magic left in my core, I had depleted a lot of it on Dolohov's revenge.

Everything passed in a blur, twelve hours on a battlefield was too much. I was tired, I was sore and injured, I had lost so much blood, my bones were poking through my skin! Yet I still didn't stop, I knew it was probably going to kill me and I'd never get to see anyone ever again, my poor baby Teddy would be left without a Godfather as I had been. I just hoped Andromeda could take him in, or failing that Hermione and Luna.

The chances of me having picked up an infection was very high with the amount of open wounds I had, I just…I don't know _why_ I didn't stop, I just…I couldn't! It had been near eight o'clock in the night when the first wave of Death Eaters hit Hogwarts, it was eight o'clock in the morning now and all I could focus on was that I had survived the night. Teddy, Hermione and Luna were still alive, but Tonks and Remus weren't. Many others I knew were dead, I had seen them, but none quite hit me like those two.

I was getting more and more frustrated, I had gotten at least five different patronus messages, but they were all the same, return immediately to Hogwarts and report to the Infirmary. I ignored the messages, Kingsley Shacklebolt's lynx, Mr Weasley's weasel, even Snape's doe that had came cantering towards me and demanded I went to the Hospital Wing, they knew I was in no fit shape to even be walking, let alone on the front lines, but I needed this battle finished as quickly as possible, before any more needless life was taken. The potions were doing their jobs, all in all I think I had downed nearly all of my blood replenishers, most of my numbing potions and a fair share of magic and energy replenishers. They were tiding me over until I could receive proper medical care, but that wouldn't be happening until I had killed Voldemort, because I'd be damned if I wasn't adamant that bastard would be off the face of the planet sooner rather than later.

Then the worst happened, I had just spotted Voldemort, the sadistic fucker was standing on a small mound of turf off to the side watching everything, when my damned spare Portkey was activated! I landed with a thump on the Infirmary floor, screams sounded around me and I was hauled to my feet, my weight leaning off of my broken leg. I looked around in fury, at the ashen and horrified faces of those around me and I felt like screaming at them, whilst they were holed up here there were people out there _dying_! Some had a right to be here, like Mrs Weasley and Poppy who were helping the injured, but there was no reason several _Aurors_, Snape and _twelve _perfectly able-bodied Order members were here!

"Mr Potter!" Poppy gasped as she got her voice back after visually logging my injuries. "Why didn't you come immediately to the Infirmary after you received such extensive injuries? Why have you been fighting for near thirteen hours?"

I lost the battle with my stomach and threw up the contents of my stomach, which seemed to be coloured a very vivid red. Blood. I thought with an internal sigh.

"Get in a bed this instant!" Poppy cried.

I was breathing deeply and flared my magic every time someone came close to me. They were too afraid of being on the receiving end of my magic to come closer.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" I yelled hoarsely as the full situation washed over me and fully registered in my mind. I had had Voldemort in my sights! I could have been battling him at this very moment, this war could have ended before the sun had fully risen, but no. I had been dragged away by people who had had no idea of what they had interrupted. I dug in my pockets for the little pendant I had been given and threw it into a far corner, how dare they make it a two way Portkey and not even tell me! If I had known what it was I would never have accepted it! And they had probably known that, more than likely why they hadn't told me what it was. Bastards!

"Saving your life by the looks of things." An Auror I didn't know the name of, nor care to know, stated with a pointed look at my visible Radius bone from the compound fracture in my right arm. It was bleeding profusely along with the rest of my body, dripping blood onto the linoleum floor.

"I had Voldemort in my sights!" I screamed, I could almost feel my throat tearing as I strained to get my point across. "Twelve hours I searched for him and the moment I spot him you do something as idiotic as pull me here by force! You had no idea of what you were interrupting, what if I had already been in battle with him? About to strike the killing blow? What then? What If I had been about to save someone's life! You had no right! No idea of what you were interrupting! How dare you drag me here like this!"

Some looked stunned that I had actually found Voldemort and wanted to go against him, others cowed as what I was saying fully registered to them, but Madam Pomfrey's face didn't once change from stern and concerned.

"You are not going back out there." She stated strongly.

"Watch me!" I said back, just as strongly, making my way towards the doors.

Snape intercepted me, his black eyes were boring into mine and I raised my chin a fraction of an inch. Whatever he was looking for, he found, because he took my potions belt from around my waist and returned it less than a minute later, fully re-stocked. I gave him a soft smile, he was a seriously underestimated person. His lips curled into a sneer, but I knew it was his way of smiling at me in public, sort of. I nodded my head to him and left the Infirmary. Mrs Weasley and Poppy screaming at me to come back and to get in a bed.

I passed numerous people on my way back outside, many stared in shock, others in awe, but most started at me in horror of my injuries. I knew it was stupid to go back onto the front line like I was, but I knew if I let Poppy have her way with me I would be strapped to that bed for a month. I didn't have that amount of time, I wanted…needed this war over with _today_! Not tomorrow, not a week or a month from now, TODAY!

My magic kept everyone away from me as I finally reached the Entrance Hall, I stopped at a table just inside the door and grabbed a bottle of water and downed it, it would be just my luck now that I needed to take a piss when I found Voldemort again. I stormed outside and past the perimeter barriers that I had helped set up before the final battle began. Minerva McGonagall tried to catch my arm when she saw the state I was in, but I dodged her easily, jogging the distance of the wards and back out the other side right into the battle once more. I wondered idly if I hadn't been forcibly taken away from the battle if the duel between me and Voldemort would have had a winner by now.

I shook my head, no point in thinking on it, it wouldn't happen now because I _had _been Portkeyed away. I headed right through the middle of the field, trying desperately to remember where the little mound of turf that Voldemort had been standing on was. It had taken me twelve hours to find last time, there was no way I could fight for another twelve just to find him, my eyes were itching with the need to sleep, my bones and muscles were aching, my throat and insides were burning and I was feeling dizzy and nauseous. Overall not very good.

I was afraid as well, terrified in actual fact, some would call me crazy for wanting to come back out here, onto the battlefield, when I had a legitimate excuse not to, but I can't explain the _need_ I felt for this to end as soon as possible, even if I was feeling afraid. My stomach was clenching and wouldn't sit still, my hands were shaking and I had to constantly clench them together, even though doing so agitated the broken bones. I was taking deep, calming breaths, but they seemed fruitless as my heart still pounded erratically and I was always short of air, no matter how much I suckled into my burning lungs.

It was a strange sensation, being hungry and hearing my stomach rumbling, yet the very thought of eating was making me nauseous. I was _weak _and I knew I was.

Another hour of mindless killing passed and it found me back at the mound of turf Voldemort had been on, but, low and behold, the bastard had disappeared, not that I was very surprised by this revelation, looked like I was going hunting, joy!

And hunt I did, but my search only turned out two werewolves, another sick, perverted vampire whom was ripped to pieces and burnt, Bellatrix Lestrange, whom I took great pleasure in killing, though I did get a very deep cut for my valiant battle with her and a few low level Death Eaters.

The fight was getting bloodier and bloodier, the sun was up fully now, though the thick, grey clouds obscured it from view more often than not, good from a battle point of view, no direct sun glare to blind me.

I gasped then moaned in pain as my broken leg, once again, tried to buckle under me. I held strong and firm however, I didn't have time for this, I couldn't let myself falter, not now. Not when I was so close to achieving what needed to be done.

The dark faction was winning, only slightly, but they were still higher in numbers than those fighting for freedom, peace and love. I snorted, love, what a laughable concept. As if I knew such a thing. True I loved my two baby girls, of course Teddy and my now deceased Godfathers. But what was love truly? Was it just an emotion? A psychological mind trick? Was it the most powerful force in the world? Was it honestly palpable as some people claimed? Would I honestly ever find out? I doubted it. I just wasn't meant to love anyone in a romantic way. Once this was all over and done with, if I was still alive of course, I would take my two girls and Teddy and just find a small, quiet, nondescript place and build a peaceful life with them. I'd done enough, too much some would argue, but none the less, what was necessary and expected of me. One way or another, life or death, I just couldn't wait for it to be all over and done with.

I saw him then, sauntering around as if nothing could hurt him, which he probably thought was true, he didn't know that I knew about, and had destroyed, all of his Horcruxes, that damned snake had been the hardest, that bubble had been nearly impenetrable, nearly, but not completely. Foolish of Voldemort really to leave his snake in that bubble alone in the Shrieking Shack, but that was Dark Lords for you. I figured out the bubble, which had taken the better part of two and a half hours fiddling about with runes and Parseltongue, then I beheaded the damned snake before it could take a chunk out of me, though it's venom was more like acid and had melted my skin wherever it had touched, I was afraid to look at exactly how much of my body was now melted thanks to Nagini.

I crept up behind that smug bastard, but he, of course, had wards up around him and spun around to turn narrowed, blood red, evil eyes onto me, his thin almost lipless mouth formed a smirk and those hellish eyes gleamed maliciously.

"Well, well. I had wondered when you would turn up Potter. Such a shame it looks like you have left half of yourself behind." He whispered in that ghost of a voice that was almost sibilant.

I just gripped my wand tighter and braced myself ready, the long, pale, bony fingers of his right hand were twitching, ever so slightly, and I knew he would strike at a moments notice, like an aggravated snake.

I don't know how long we stared at each other, neither of us moving bar the occasional twitch of Voldemort's hand and the clenching, almost spasm like movements my hand did on the smooth handle of my wand.

The sound seemed to have shut off and time seemed to have slowed down as Voldemort reached for his wand, so quickly, so efficiently. He had hissed his first curse almost before I could react, lucky for myself that I had had such extensive self-training.

The blood-boiling curse bounced dangerously off of the heavy shield I had erected, cutting through the warring individuals around us before it struck an unaware person from behind, I didn't have a chance to see if it had hit a man or woman, Death Eater or Order member.

The battle that would decide it all had began, I dodged, jumped and flung curses at Voldemort, twisting and writhing in a familiar dance of death. I was adamant that Voldemort would be the one to die today, whether or not I died too was irrelevant at the moment.

I was too high on adrenaline to feel the pain as numerous, lethal, curses ripped open my remaining skin, shattered bones and tore at muscles, my mind was now one tracked, kill Voldemort at all costs. Nothing else mattered, I had been trained for this, had been waiting for this moment for seven years, ever since Hagrid had told me that Voldemort had murdered my parents back when I was ten, well...technically eleven, but still it was only a few minutes difference.

I spat out a mouthful of blood as a curse that felt like an eight hundred pound weight slammed into my stomach, I growled through blood-smeared teeth as Voldemort cackled. I raised my wand again and again, trying desperately to get a hit on the snake like monster in front of me. It felt almost hopeless though as the bastard just flicked his wand and the spell careening towards him dispersed, I felt anger settle in and tried to shake it off, the last thing I needed was for my own emotions to distract me at such a crucial time.

I was tiring, I could feel it. The darkness at the corners of my eyes was getting thicker, my reactions were getting slower and my movements sluggish. Yet I still couldn't get a hit on him. He was gloating, taunting me and cackling insanely. Brandishing his wand elaborately and intricately, mocking me and my rage burned ever harder. This was turning out to be impossible, I had thought I had at least a standing chance, but I couldn't even get one hit on him, I needed a miracle and I needed it soon.

I was kneeling on one leg, the blood from the grass seeping into my trousers, as my broken leg finally refused to support my weight. Voldemort was taunting me, hissing at me that I was weak and pathetic and I knew I was, but one way or another I was still going to take that bastard with me.

I forced myself to my feet, favouring my better leg, because the both of them were heavily damaged, but thankfully only one of them was broken, well, shattered would perhaps be a better word to describe it. I shook with the effort it took to get me to my feet, watched all the while by those glowing blood coloured eyes.

I fired a blasting hex at him before I had fully straightened up and the bastard just gave a lazy flick of his wand and the hex was diverted into the surrounding crowd. I actually growled then and fired off as many curses I could, but none of them hit, they never even came close and I felt hopelessness settle in my heart, how was I supposed to do this again? Why had I even believed I had a fighting chance in the first place? A rush of green light millimetres from my ear startled me into throwing myself back to the ground. I rolled out of the way and pushed myself to my feet. Voldemort was laughing, in that creepy, cartoon villain like way he had and shivers raced each other up and down my spine, a cold sweat broke out upon my brow and soaked through the back of my shirt.

I had a moment of dizziness and nausea, just one small moment and everything was over in seconds, green light filled my vision and it was too late to move, my eyes widened as it sped towards me and I couldn't even try to move out of the way as the curse struck me dead between the eyes. I fell backwards, crashed into the blood softened ground, I couldn't move, I couldn't see, hear, smell or feel, but I could think and it was that that made me realised something had gone wrong. I was supposed to be dead, but I just knew I wasn't. It felt like something was going on around me, I could suddenly feel wind or perhaps it was a thousand hands brushing gently over my body, I could hear buzzing, not the strong, annoying, buzzing of insect wings, but the soft buzzing of hushed voices. Someone was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't listen, I was too tired to focus or concentrate, I needed to get back and finish Voldemort, I needed to protect my baby Teddy, check on my girls.

I held back a gut wrenching scream as it felt like a tree trunk had slammed into my body, but I managed and awareness came back to me. The soft buzzing I had previously heard was now a deafening roar as my unseeing, unfocused eyes sharpened and pinpointed the crowd. The black robed, white masked masses were screaming in delight, roaring at the figurehead, the back robed, bald headed bastard standing in front of me, claiming my death and defeat.

Half of the Order were silent, shocked into grief , the other half were screaming in anguish and pleading for lies, little did they know it was true, perhaps the vampire portion of me had stopped the curse? Had the werewolf portion of me slowed down the curse? Or had my weird side conquered the curse once more? I didn't know, perhaps I would never know, but I knew that now was my one and only chance to strike the bastard dead, when he was busy gloating, when my strike would be too swift for him to shield or deflect. I searched the crowd and saw no threats to my plan, my wand was gone, but my backup wand was pressing hardly against my leg, secured in the holster I had created to fit in my boxer shorts, I just needed to grab it now without alerting the wrong people to me.

It was hard to lie here, trying to worm a broken hand into my boxer shorts, and god did that ever sound wrong, listening to Voldemort's victory speech and all the fucked up plans he had for the wizarding world and the extermination of the Muggles and Muggleborns.

My fingers touched the wand, the maple one thankfully, and I slowly extracted it, moving cautiously slowly and I fought to hold back my grin as I realised no one had noticed. I took aim and I pleaded to whoever the hell was watching over this to just stay out of my way, because whenever I asked for help, it backfired on me and I ended up losing something. I built up my remaining power, which wasn't very much, I would be drained for a long while after this, if I survived, and I whispered the two most unforgiving words I would ever utter in my life.

"Avada Kedavra."

The beam of sickly green light moved a lot faster than when it had been coming towards me and before the Death Eaters could even draw breath to scream out a warning, the spell hit Voldemort in the back. He collapsed and then there was nothing, just a pile of black robes and a half charred body that was giving off little particles, like dust, or smoke. Voldemort was obviously dead, his hideous red eyes were still gleaming in victory, his mouth still half formed into words. No one moved and I doubted that I could either.

Then as one they all turned to look at me, wand raised, my body half supported by a damaged shoulder, my eyes open and dancing with life, I was no longer the chalk white corpse they had believed me being. I was alive and Voldemort wasn't. So I was the victor and he wasn't. I had done it, I had won.

That was all I needed to know before darkness claimed my sight, hearing and consciousness. I didn't care what happened to me now, I had taken my revenge, for myself and my parents and all of the others whom had given their lives in the war. I could rest easy for the first time in my short life with the knowledge that Voldemort was gone for good, gone forever.

* * *

A/N: Another one day, one shot. This idea actually came to me last night in a dream, I've just finished rereading Deathly Hallows and well, I'm not sure if I'm the only one disappointed with the final battle, but I was, so I decided that I'd write it my way. This is the way, I believe, the final battle should have went.

Perhaps not with the little side stories and the introduction of the vampires and werewolves, but loosely, this is how it should have gone, Harry battling the Death Eaters whilst Voldemort hid away like the coward that he is, then Harry finding him and the last battle to end all last battles, ending in Voldemort's defeat.

Hope all of you reading this fic liked it.

StarLight Massacre. xXx


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